Angels and Demons
by TheBookThief95
Summary: After being held captive for over 9 years, Isabelle has finally made it home, but at the worst possible time. The Apocalypse had begun while she was missing, and the captors still have her children. Even after finding her real family, she decides to go after them instead. When she discovers a group of survivors that could help her, can she learn to trust them? To Love? Daryl/OC.
1. And So It Begins

The smell of unwashed bodies mingled with the scent of rotting feces in the trailer of the hot, stuffy truck was overpowering. Isabelle was on the verge of becoming sick, though she held it in. She had to if she wanted to survive the ride. She had seen too many frightened women and children be thrown from the moving vehicle for causing too many problems for the vicious men driving the truck. She clutched at the two tiny bodies that were snuggled up against hers tighter at the thought of either one of them being tossed.

The trailer of the truck suddenly quaked violently, sending women and children flying around the tiny cramped space, bringing Isabelle out of her tragic thoughts of her kid's futures. One of the younger girls of the group, no older than 17, cried out loudly in pain as she hit the side of the metal wall. Immediately the truck screeched to a halt, and the entire trailer became silent. No one dared to breathe as they waited for any signs of them.

Suddenly, a blinding light sprang from the opened door frame of the truck, followed by a loud bang that rang out as the rolling metal door hit the ceiling. Shrinking away from the harsh sun light, Isabelle hovered over her boys protectively, moving away from the horrible people that entered their vicinity. With her eyes squeezed shut, silently praying for them to leave, she could hear the angrily heavy footsteps of one of the men.

"We told you to shut your fucking mouths, didn't we?!" He growled between his teeth, clearly pissed about the noise that was made.

The young girl who had let out the cry whimpered in fear. "I.. I'm so sorry sir, I didn't mean to. I was just caught off guard, that's all!" The fear was thick in her trembling voice.

The man grinned slyly. "Too bad, we've had enough." He grunted.

A loud screech rang out from the other side of the metal box, forcing Isabelle's eyes wide open. The man, tall, about 35, thick shouldered and a rat's nest for hair, had grabbed a fist full of the young girl's hair, and was starting to drag her towards the open doorway. Isabelle felt sick to her stomach at the sight. Another soul would be lost, yet again. She couldn't stand to see another woman shoved out into the cruel world, a world even crueler than the one they lived in now. She had heard the stories of the Apocalypse that was upon them, mere gossip among the women that were recently picked up from looted campsites. She would not allow this man to end that girl's life like that. She was not going to cower in fear any longer. She was through being afraid.

"Stop," Isabelle whispered through her rough cracked lips, but the evil man couldn't hear her feeble plea over the young girl's shrieks. "Stop," She said a little louder, her voice beginning to find itself after years of being lost in the darkness. Heads began to turn towards her and the eyes she met stared at her in awe, but also in fright. They knew what happened to those who disobeyed. "Stop. Stop! Stop it, NOW." She yelled as loud as her vocal cords would allow, and stood up on wobbly, thin legs. By this point, the captor had turned to her, and the girl he had a hold of had quieted her shrill screams into silent tears. They were all looking at her now; all waiting.

"What did you say?" he said, his jaw clenched tightly. Though it sounded calm, disbelief and rage filled his voice. His eyes burned holes of pure hatred through her body.

"I said, stop," she murmured evenly, though her voice broke at the very end. "It's not her fault that you ran over that pot hole." Tiny gasps of astonished women filled the air, and the man instantly dropped the girl he was dragging, and began to stalk quickly over to where she was standing. She could see the actual fire that burned behind his eyes and it was steadily growing.

_Bad idea, completely bad idea Isabelle._ She mentally cursed herself, cowering away as he came closer, inches away from her body.

"I'm so sick of all of your shit, but especially yours," he breathed, leaning down to roughly grab hold of her thin wrist. "You've been causing trouble ever since day one. And you know what? I'm done dealing with it, you little bitch." He yanked her violently away from the space she called home for the past couple months, away from her friends, and away from her boys. She heard a loud pop as the man pulled her arm again, followed by a shooting pain which raced down the length of her arm. She let out a small yelp, only to make him more furious than before. He continued to jerk her towards the door of the truck, leaving everything she had behind. She finally realized that her kids, her whole entire world, would not be coming with her. She became frantic, calling out for them.

"No, NO!" She screeched. "My kids!" The man grunted against her struggles, and quickly wrapped his arm around her waist, roughly flinging her onto his shoulder. Her fists pounded his thick back to no avail. She didn't have the strength to fight off her attacker, she never did.

"Please! Please, just let me have my babies! Let me take them with me!" Isabelle pleaded, becoming more and more hysterical with every footstep closing the distance between them and the open door way.

"I don't think so. You've been a bad, bad girl." The man sneered. As the tears kept flowing down her cheeks like never ending rivers, she began to plead once again, but this time to the women in the truck sadly watching her scene.

"Watch my babies. Please! Keep them safe!" She cried out, hoping to God that they would help. Her boys were all she had left to live for. Slowly the others began to nod, including the young girl whose loud cries had started this whole mess, her eyes thanked her silently for saving her life. A tiny bit of relief washed over her, until the man stopped. He had finally reached the door.

"Out you go." The man carelessly tossed her body effortlessly into the empty street. She landed on her side with a grunt, the air suddenly being forced from her lungs at the impact. After a moment, her hands began to sting from the gravel that had ripped the skin open. Isabelle quickly looked up to see the truck door slam shut loudly for the last time. The man had hopped out after throwing her from the truck, and was making his way quickly to the cab. "Let's see if you can survive out in the real world, bitch." He called to her, laughing menacingly to himself. The truck roared to life once again as soon as his door had closed, and fled down the road, leaving Isabelle in the dust all alone. More tears began to flow yet again, though not because of the immense amount of pain she felt, but because of the fading image of the beat up gray truck carrying her children.

After a few minutes of lying on the hard gravel ground, mourning for her lost boys, she finally stood up and brushed the dust off of herself. She winced as sharp knife like pain shot through her arm that had been dislocated. "Yeah, that isn't good." She told herself. "Perfect." Other than her arm, and some scrapes and bruises, she was in pretty good shape considering what she had done. He could have killed her if he wanted to.

Finally she began to glance around, and take in her surroundings, which were strangely familiar. Her forehead creased as she gazed up at the towering sky scrapers. _Where have I seen these before? _She wondered, trying to pinpoint the memories. _Those men never took us out anywhere. We were always locked up._ She looked around the empty, yet littered city streets, looking for any clues as to where she was. A few yards away from her was a good sized billboard, although it was blackened and charred from a fire. She squinted, and gasped softly as she read it. "_Welcome to Atlanta, Georgia_!" the sign said cheerfully. She understood now. That was why everything looked so familiar. She was home. After 9 years of being held captive, Isabelle had finally come home.


	2. Home Is Where the Heart Is

The sound of a thousand voices mingled with the smell of cheap fast food began to flood her senses as she pictured the great city like it was before. Deep within her, the memories began to come back. She remembered all the times she pleaded with her dad to take her up to the tallest skyscrapers, and he always agreed. He would take her up into the tallest building in the city and straight up to the highest floor just so she could look out the windows at the vast imagery. "This is our home. This is where you belong." he used to tell her, every single time they went up. Tears had begun to well in the corners of her eyes at the thought of her father. She hadn't seen him in over 9 years, and she wondered if she ever would again.

"Focus Isabelle, focus." she reminded herself, quickly wiping at her moistened eyes. Now was not the time for tears. She knew little about the world that was upon her now, except for what the women had talked, and told stories about; which wasn't much. Even they had no idea what was all happening. But one thing was clear; death and destruction were everywhere, and there would be no escape. Some had mentioned an even more horrific thing though; the dead had risen, and were now going after the living. Isabelle was glad that her father had made her sit through documentaries, doomsday shows, and even horror films over the apocalypse since he always believed the world would end one day. She felt lucky enough to know how to kill these things, but did she have the strength for it? "Go for the brain." She quoted quietly to herself, remembering what her father had taught her. She sighed, remembering how she used to think that all the training he put her through was for nothing. Isabelle stopped her ambling walk and knelt on the warm asphalt. She was overwhelmed and frightened at the thought of living through yet another nightmare in her life, yet this one would never end. How would she ever survive on her own out here? She didn't have her father to show her what to do, she didn't have the supplies she needed, and she was already malnourished enough. Suddenly she was glad her boys weren't with her. They wouldn't have to face this mess, at least for now. She hoped they were safe inside the truck.

Just thinking of her children, strength began to make its way back into her sore and tired limbs. "No," she murmured. "I must be strong. I must be courageous. For them. For August, and for Michael. For my babies." Standing up on weak legs, her eyes began to search for something, anything, she could use as a weapon against the demons that lurked in the shadows, waiting to pounce. Her eyes caught sight of a nice sized pipe, which the end had been broken off leaving jagged metal behind. "Perfect." she smiled, quickly shuffling over to pick it up. It felt nice in her hands, and had a good weight even though it was a little on the heavy side; it would serve her purposes for now. As if on cue, the sound of feet against pavement filtered over to where she stood. She whipped her head around quickly, searching frantically for the source. Finally, her eyes found it; a man shuffling down the street, his back to her. He wore a nice, fancy black suite almost as though he were going to a wedding. "Sir," she called out hoarsely. He didn't make any sign that he had heard her. She tried again. "Please, sir, I need your help." Isabelle began to make her way towards him. "Please, I'm all alone, I have nothing!" she pleaded with the man, quickening her pace until she was a few feet behind him. "Please, please help me."

The man stopped suddenly, his body stiff. Relief washed over her. Finally, he had heard her. Trying to act as friendly as possible, she smiled a little even though her heart raced beneath her rib cage at being so close to the opposite sex. Her senses were telling her to run, but she knew better than to ignore a chance at safety. "I just need some shelter for the night. Do you think you could help me?" she said softly, her voice cracking slightly. The man slowly turned to face her, and her mouth dropped open into that of sheer horror. The man, or what used to be a man, had been replaced with the face of a monster. His sickly green and ash colored face screamed death and decay. His cheek had been torn apart, exposing his jaw bone, yellowing teeth and bright red muscles, all which were oozing black fluid. Isabelle let out a yelp of fright, stumbling back at the horrific sight. Bile rapidly rose in her throat as she clutched the metal pipe close to her chest, while trying not to vomit. The 'thing' began to moan awfully, and its teeth started to snap as it struggled towards her. Adrenaline coursed through her body, and she quickly extended the metal pole out in defense, placing the non-sharp end against the ground and under her armpit. The jagged side was pointed towards the moving monster.

"No!" she cried out in fear. "Not like this." The strength she had felt earlier had significantly diminished and she could not move the pole fast enough to reach the zombies head. Instead she hit his stomach, and even with the pole piercing through him, he continued to move closer, hungrily clawing at the air in front of her. He wasn't going to stop for anything.

Suddenly, a loud BANG erupted, making her eardrums explode, and her vision blurry. The corpse collapsed in on itself, slowly sliding down the rest of the pole and slumped onto her thin body. The world started to sway and began to fade as her ears continued to ring. Shapes hovered over her in the forms of even more corpses. She couldn't make out exactly what they were. "I love you Michael.. August.. I'm so sorry." She whispered, the words getting jumbled in her mouth. Then everything was black

The screams of terrorized children filled her ears as Isabelle ran through pitch black nothingness. "Michael?" she called out frantically, searching for her boys but unable to see anything. "August?!" The dreadful screeches continued, growing louder and more tragic the farther she went on. "I'm coming!" she called out as loud as she could, panic rising in her shaky voice. "I'm coming!"

Her eyes flashed open, her body still trembling from the dream. Realizing it was just a dream, she let out a heavy sigh, closing her eyes yet again. She clutched at the empty air trying to bring her children closer to her, only touching soft bed sheets. She stiffened, panic beginning to rise again. _Where were they?!_ She searched her brain quickly, trying to remember when the events of yesterday slowly began to flood back into her memory. _They're still in the truck.. they aren't here.. _Quietly, she let out a soft breath and opened her eyes once more. Isabelle let out a small gasp of surprise at the sight she was trying to take in before her. She was back in her old bedroom, the one she had been in when she was just a kid, before she was taken. Everything looked just as it had; lavender purple walls with white trim, a white wooden desk, and a small bookshelf. Everything was right, except the windows, which were now boarded up with stained 2 by 4's. Her posters from years ago still hung on her walls, just barely starting to curl at the corners; many upon many bands, magazine covers, and movie posters littered her walls with flashy colors and bold prints.

"Oh good, you're up finally." A soft voice trickled through the opened doorway. Isabelle jumped, startled by the unexpected visitor, but physically relaxed once she realized it was a woman. "If you're well enough to stand, I think you should come on downstairs." said the lady. She had to be in her early 40's, and her shoulder length brown hair had begun to gray at the roots. She had kind green eyes; motherly eyes. "My name's Karen, by the way." she said kindly, leaning against the door frame casually.

"Isabelle" she choked out. The woman smiled thoughtfully, her eyes crinkling at the sides; it reminded her of her dad.

"Oh we all know who you are, and it's so nice to finally meet you dear!" Karen laughed softly, standing up straight and turned heading down the stairs. Isabelle stared at the spot the woman had just been in, her body ridged under the sheets. _They ALL know me? How is that even possible? Who's ALL?!_ Her heart began to pound as she slid out of the warm bed that was beginning to grow cold. Her head began to swim as she made her way out of the room and down the stairs, pacing herself. Had the men come back? Had they made a mistake letting me live? She rounded the corner headed towards the soft murmurs of multiple people. Before she entered the kitchen, her kitchen, housing all of the strange people, she sent a silent plea towards the ceiling. Please, keep me strong. Taking a few steps forward, she finally had entered the unknown. Silence thickly covered the air, except for her racing heart and hyperventilated breathing. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for the faces who meant to cause her harm. She saw Karen, who smiled at her softly, as well as other faces who sparked a sense of familiar in the back of her mind. Yet she saw none of the men who wished to hurt her. Isabelle became puzzled. _But how do they know me..._

"Isabelle." A deep voice came from behind her, full of heartbreaking emotion. She stiffened at the sound. It was a familiar voice; very familiar. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned, not believing her eyes when they fell upon him.

"Dad." she whispered.


	3. Iced Teas and Soap Operas

The breeze fluttered nicely against her skin as she gazed at her father. His once luscious reddish-brown hair had turned a thin, silvery grey. The dark bags from sleepless nights hung low under his eyes. He looked physically and mentally drained, and looked as if he had aged well beyond his years; but his eyes were alight with awe and love as he looked at her. 9 years, 9 long years it had been since she was her dad. Several hours had passed since they first laid eyes on each other and after all of the tears, hugs, and rejoices, he still looked at her as though he was a small child on Christmas morning gazing at all the presents under the Christmas tree. He reached up to touch her face for what seemed like the hundredth time, but again he was too quick with his actions. Isabelle flinched away from his oncoming hand. A normal reflex she had adapted to over the years.

"Sorry, sorry," she mumbled, embarrassed at her overreaction. She knew he wouldn't hurt her.

He sighed, ignoring her retreat and rubbed his thumb against her cheek thoughtfully. "It's okay, munchkin. It's understandable, considering." His eyes visibly grew darker whenever her past was mentioned. Shaking his head free of the memories, he moved his hand to tug on a few strands of hair lightly. "Why on earth would you ruin your hair?" he chuckled lightly, knowing well enough that she didn't do it, her captors had. She could see it written plain as day all over his face. She smiled a little and shrugged. Her once long, curly blonde hair had been cut short, the ends jagged and layered. They had also decided to dye it a bright copper red, a color she knew would never come out. They had stopped cutting it over the past couple months and now her bangs hung low, hiding her soft green eyes.

"I decided I wanted to be a little rebellious," she joked half-heartedly, playing along. "You still haven't told me who all of those people in the house are though, dad." She said, quickly changing the subject.

"Most of them are neighbors with nowhere else to go, along with a few friends and some stragglers we found caught in the city." He said, turning his face away from her towards the towering skyscrapers that loomed in the distance. "We couldn't just leave them there. They'd die. That would be cruel." He whispered softly. She followed his gaze towards the city sky line, thinking of her boys who were all alone out there. She hadn't mentioned them to him yet. Now wasn't the time. If he knew they had defiled her like that, she didn't know what he would do. It would break him.

While staring out into the abandoned city, an extremely loud explosion came from the center of the city, followed by a thick white mushroom cloud that loomed over the tall buildings. The house began to shake at the shock of the explosion, glass shattering and falling around her feet. "What was that?" she asked her father, who had now stood up trying to see the massive explosion from a different angle.

"I don't know." He mumbled softly, just as confused as she was. "But what I do know is that the noise is going to attract every walker for hundreds of miles closer to the city." Isabelle shuddered visibly at the thought of thousands of corpses making their way towards them. "I hope Jill and Dean are okay." Her father muttered to himself quietly. "Let's go back inside, just in case." Quickly helping her stand up, they rushed back inside, firmly shutting the door behind them. The rest of the group were huddled in the living room. Clearly, they had all felt the explosion too.

"What was it?" a frantic female voice rose out of the many whispers as Isabelle and her dad entered the room.

"We don't know." Her father said, speaking calmly though his eyes betrayed his gentle façade. He was frightened of the unknown like everyone else.

"What about Jill? And Dean?" another voice asked. "Where are they?"

"Jill and Dean are still out there as of now." Small gasps of distress filtered around the group of people as they thought of the fact that they might lose two of their own. "They usually are always back before nightfall when they go on runs. We will wait until then to know their fate." Her father said, pulling up a wooden chair for him to sit in. Isabelle walked over to where Karen was sitting against the wall on the floor; a little ways away from the rest of the group. She sat down beside her silently, just glad to have someone else beside her. Karen squeezed her hand comfortingly.

"And if they aren't back?" an older man with an angry look on his face asked with annoyance. "What then? Will you risk more lives to go and recover them? Or will you just sit around and do nothing?" His dirty blonde hair was extremely messy, as though he had just woken up from a very rough sleep.

"We'll decide when the time comes." Her father replied stiffly, glaring at him. The man grumbled angrily to himself and brushed past her father, bumping into his shoulder as he made his way to the stairs. A woman and a young teenage boy followed right after him, quietly apologizing to Isabelle's father.

And so they waited. Minutes quickly turned into hours as everyone remained huddled in the same spot they started in, murmuring softly to one another to pass the time. Karen and Isabelle talked about a lot of things, but mostly about Karen. She told her about her family, which consisted of her three dogs and her son. She told her about her job selling house insurance over the phone, and all about how she missed the simplest of things that had long disappeared since the apocalypse had started; like ice cubes in her iced teas, and soap operas on Sunday mornings. As they chatted, the time flew by, day quickly becoming night. The room had grown dark and the voices slowly trickled to a stop, enveloping the room into total silence. Isabelle turned to look at her father. He was staring at the ground solemnly, his eyes closed. It was time. Slowly, he stood and everyone else turned to watch him, already knowing what his verdict was.

As he started to stumble through the painful words, a loud thunderous thud came from the front of the house, followed by quick and heavy footsteps moving through the hallway. By this point, everyone was on their feet, craning their necks to see what was going on. A woman rounded the corner quickly with a man glued to her side. His arm was slung around her shoulder as he tried to keep up with her. One of his legs dragged behind him lifelessly as he hobbled on one leg towards the group. They were covered in pitch black soot that was smeared all over their faces and angry red burn marks ran the lengths of their arms.

"Please, help me!" the woman grunted. Isabelle's father rushed to her side, swinging the other man's arm around his neck as he led them towards the worn down sofa in the living room. The crowd parted to let them through. Both of them slumped into the soft cushions, breathing hard.

"Jill, what happened out there?" her father asked softly after letting tem catch their breath. The family of three that had gone upstairs found their way back and stood at the edge of the group.

Jill shook her head. "They're everywhere, Tim. After that explosion hit, they began to descend upon us like wolves." She breathed, staring off into space. "We barely made it out. The blast was so huge it knocked us off our feet. Unfortunately we were too close to the explosion. The fire scorched everything we found. I'm sorry." She sighed, looking guilty.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Isabelle's father, Tim, smiled softly and patted Jill's back. "We're all just glad you're safe. Both of you." Jill nodded, still staring off into the distance, remembering the day's painful events. "Jill, one more thing." Tim asked calmly, as if the answer didn't matter much to him. "What exploded? What caused all of this?"

Jill was quiet for a moment, and then looked at her father straight in the eyes. "It's gone." She whispered.

Isabelle's father stared at Jill in confusion. "What's gone?"

"The CDC."

...

So, what do you guys think so far? Chapter 3 is complete! I know I haven't added any of the walking dead characters in yet, but they're coming, I promise. I love back stories though, so I'm putting one into this story (: Do you like Isabelle's character so far? Too much? Too little? Please leave me some reviews on what I can do to fix things, or add things. BE CRITICAL; BE YOU. The next chapter should be put up in the next few days. Until then, thanks for reading (:

The Book Thief.


	4. When Disasters Strike

I really hope you guys are liking this story so far. I know I know "Where's Daryl and the rest of the group?!" He's coming, be patient! She has to find him first. (; Please leave your comments for me to read, they make me write faster! I appreciate you taking the time to read this story, it means a lot to me and I would really like to know what you think about it! Until next time,

The Book Thief.

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"There weren't any warning signs; nothing to tell us what was going to happen, except one thing." Jill said quietly to Isabelle's father. It had been a few hours since the couple had finally made it back. The rest of the group that was gathered in the living room had finally dispersed, tending to their daily chores. Dean slept quietly on the couch. His leg was wrapped tightly to a long wooden beam, so that the bone would heal properly. Isabelle leaned in closer to hear what Jill had to say, curious of what she had seen out there. "At first, we heard people crying and yelling, someone telling others to 'get to the cars'. We tried to get as close as we could, peering from behind an old abandoned building. We watched as a group of maybe 10 or 11 people sprinted across the lawn of the CDC."

"Other survivors?" her father stood up quickly at the thought, his eyes flashing. Jill nodded, glancing up at him.

"They all jumped into their vehicles but didn't have enough time to drive away. Two of them barely had enough time to crawl out of the broken window and dive behind some stranded sand bags. That's the last we saw of them." She said quietly, looking back down at the table. "After the shock wore off from the blast, we looked for them but they had already gone. Then the walkers started to descend on us." She shuddered at the thought. Tim patted her on the back thoughtfully.

"Thank you for telling me, Jill. It's very helpful." She nodded, excusing herself and headed over to where Dean remained on the couch, fast asleep. "I thought it was just us out here anymore." Her father said to himself, staring out of one of the small cracks of the boarded up windows. He turned to her and smiled. "Let's get you some food. You must be starving." Her stomach growled, answering his question. He laughed softly, and guided her towards the smell of eggs frying in a pan.

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Isabelle lay in bed, listening to the crickets sing and the night birds chirp with her stomach packed full with food. She sighed contently, happy to be safe at home. She couldn't remember the last time she had a full stomach. Quiet whispers suddenly filled the silence, coming from the other room; they sounded urgent. Isabelle scrunched her face trying to concentrate on what it was they were saying, but had no luck. Sighing, she unrolled herself from the covers, trying to get out of bed as quietly as she could. As she snuck out of her room moving carefully down the hall, she listened for other noises, but couldn't hear any. The house was silent, filled with sleeping people; except the ones in the room next to hers. She made it to the door at the end of the hall. It was cracked open just enough to allow her to see shadows of figures dancing along the walls.

"I don't trust his judgment anymore. It's time for us to leave." A gruff voice murmured. She recognized it as the man who called out her father yesterday. She frowned, moving closer to the wooden frame.

"We wouldn't last three days out on our own, Kevin." A harsh female voice answered; most likely the lady who had followed after him the previous day. "I will not expose my son, our son, to such danger."

"We've got no choice." He growled. "Do you want him to die here, or with the rest of our family?" The wife had fallen silent, and he took that as a sign to carry on. "I know it's dangerous out there, Lily, but we have no other choice." His voice grew softer, less harsh than before. "Can't you see I'm only thinking of you and Danny?" He urged her quietly, trying to make her see his side of things.

"Okay." She said quietly, finally giving in. "Okay."

"Get your things, we leave now." Kevin said quickly, rummaging around for the few possessions they owned. Isabelle's eyes grew wide as the silently scuttled away from the door and back into her room before they could see her eavesdropping. _Leaving? Why would they risk everything like that? _She thought. The sound of light footsteps heading through the hall caught her attention. She looked through the opening of her doorway and saw the young boy, Danny, follow his parents down the staircase. He carried a shotgun, holding it close to his chest and looking frightened at the thought of leaving. She moved quickly after them once she was out of their range of sight, following them towards the front door. They had made it to the bottom of the paved drive way by the time she had reached the window.

Panic grew inside her stomach, telling her she needed to warn them, to get them off the streets and back to safety. She propelled herself out the door, closing the gap between them quickly. All three were brandishing firearms now, though they knew better than to be shooting so close to the city.

The man swore under his breath once he caught sight of her. "What are you doing here girl? Go home!" He whispered harshly.

"You can't leave yet." She pleaded with the small family. "It's not safe here. The explosion has probably drawn in thousands of them already, maybe more."

"It isn't safe ANYwhere," Kevin said evenly. "We will leave when we please, this isn't a prison."

She glanced down at their guns. "But you … you can't shoot those here, they'll hear you and come down on all of us." She hissed at him. Kevin let out an angry breath and, ignoring her warning, pushed is family on. They moved slowly and farther into the street, leaving Isabelle behind. Clenching both her teeth and her fists, she turned and rushed back towards the house silently. She had to get her father so he could convince them to stay. He would make them see. She had barely touched the doorknob when she heard the faint shuffling on the opposite side of the street of the family. Her breath caught in her throat and she froze as the walkers came into view. Dropping into a crouch, she hid behind a massive and empty flower pot beside the front door. She squeezed her eyes shut praying they hadn't seen her.

"Walkers!" she heard Danny shout shakily to his parents. The sound of open gunfire bounced off of the houses and echoed through the streets. Isabelle's eyes popped open widely. _No!_ She mouthed_. _The sound of the guns would now be drawing even more corpses here. She peered out behind the pot to watch the family frantically try and take down the herd, but there were too many of them. The walkers were coming out of nowhere and had the three surrounded. There would be no escape. Lily was crying loudly, hiding behind her husband to cower from the gnashing teeth. The dead closed in, ripping flesh from bone. Screams of pain and agony filled the neighborhood as the zombies began to feed on their prey. More corpses kept coming, one after the other, drawn to the guns and the screams. Turning away from the gruesome sight, she quickly grabbed hold of the door handle. Opening it roughly, she jumped back inside and didn't turn around. She kept running through the house until she found her father's sleeping quarters, but he wasn't there. The house was entirely empty. His mattress was hidden in a corner, beside the basement door. She huddled herself there, pressing up against the wall, pleading for it all to be over. A small click from a door trying to open sounded close by. Confused, she looked around. Finally she caught sight of the basement door handle beginning to jiggle and turn, right in front of her. Another quiet click and the door slid open an inch. Slickly green fingers stretched out, grasping the edge of the wood. Stiffening at the sight, she opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. She was too frightened to make any sound at all. The greyish nails began to scratch against the frame and door, trying to claw its way towards her. Her reflexes finally kicked in and she slammed the door shut with her feet. The fingers snapped off easily, dropping to the floor in a puddle of black ooze. Propping herself against the wall and the feet against the door like a vice, she used all her strength to keep it shut. The door shook violently as the monsters moaned from the other side desperate for her flesh. 'No, no, no." she whispered softly as her muscles strained against the weight. _Why in the world were there walkers in the basement? _The question made her mind reel trying to find the answers; she came up with none.

At that moment Karen rounded the corner and saw her squished between the door and the wall. She grabbed hold of Isabelle's arm and dragged her towards the back entrance as the basement door crashed open. Karen pushed her in front, closer to the door, and followed the rest of the way. Their hands were locked together like an animal trap. They were almost there, only a few feet away from safety. Suddenly she felt Karen's hand being torn away from hers with great force. Isabelle turned to see two zombies behind her, their mouths hungrily chewing their way through her other arm. The closest one moved its mouth to her neck and tore through it easily, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. Blood was pouring out of the wounds as Karen's eyes became wide, staring at her dreadfully. _"Go now."_ Karen mouthed silently. She stumbled backwards, blinded by the tears that flooded her eyes.

"I'm so sorry!" Isabelle called out and quickly turned to open the patio door. She jumped out into the cool night air as fast as she could and shut it firmly. The others, including her father, were pacing on the dead grass of the fenced in yard. The group was smaller than before. Isabelle's father ran up to her, pulling her into a tight hug.

"I thought I lost you." His voice was gritty with emotion. Isabelle was silent, still in shock and denial. He began to check her for bites and scratches, finally content when he found none. Her father looked at her quizzically, waiting for her to say something. She stared blankly at the now walker infested house. Her father's eyes went from her to where the rest of the group were several times; scanning the crowd for one person in particular. "Karen?" he asked, his voice catching in his throat. Isabelle finally shook her head and collapsed back into his chest with heavy sobs. The first person to befriend her here, the first person to give her hope of the future and ease her worried mind was gone for good; she didn't even get to tell her about her boys.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The sunlight warmed her back through her thin black t-shirt as Isabelle sat on one of the benches in the closed off yard. It had been two days since the walker attack and they were still trying to clear the corpses from the house. The herds outside had finally started to die down; only a few stragglers remained. Even though the worst was over, she couldn't shake the feeling of fright. She missed her boys more than ever and was anxious to know if they were okay. She wondered where they were and what they were doing at that very moment. She wondered if they were missing her too. She looked down at her hands. Karen would've loved Michael and August.

"So what's on your mind, Isabelle?" Her dad's voice came through the fuzziness of her thoughts. She had almost forgotten that she asked to talk to him earlier in the day. Until now, he had been busy clearing the house. He sat down next to her expectantly.

"Right." She mumbled. His eyes were glued to her face as she looked up to meet the icy blue stare. She couldn't sit here in safety when she knew her boys were still out there. Now was the time to tell him, but she had no idea how to go about it. So, she told him the truth. "I … I'm leaving, dad."


	5. Where Our Hearts Lye

**"The world we know is gone, but keeping our humanity? That's a choice." - Dale Horvath, The Walking Dead**

**Authors note: **Okay yes I know, it hasn't even been 24 hours since I posted the last chapter but my inspiration has been running wild and I just had to write! I hope you like it, even though it was a little rushed. I was so excited to put it out that I had to do it tonight (It's 1:50am right now... Oops, oh well). Anyways, I would really appreciate it if you would leave me some feedback please. It's extremely helpful and appreciated. Thanks for your support!

The Book Thief.

* * *

Isabelle stood beside her old bed, throwing old worn clothing into a blue duffle-bag. There wasn't much left for her to take: only a few oversized men's plaid shirts, a couple pairs of ripped skinny jeans, and a few wholly tank tops. She sighed looking down at the small amount of possessions in her bag, hoping it would be enough to get her through the next couple months.

A soft knock came from behind her and her heart began to pound. She half hoped it was her father who had come to finally say his goodbyes. Isabelle turned around, only to be disappointed at the sight of a young woman about her age. She was carrying a set of thick, black combat boots. "I think Karen would've wanted you to have these." The girl said quietly, setting the boots beside the door before turning to leave again. Isabelle looked at the ground before walking over to the pair of shoes. Picking them up, she noticed that they were only slightly worn and still in tip top shape. She pulled the tongue of the shoe up higher to view the size. Above the size chart, where it clearly stated that the boots were a size 7, Karen's name was written in black ink. Her heart broke all over again at the sight of the woman's name. She shook her head and bent over to slip off the torn and ragged tennis shoes she was wearing. Isabelle tossed the broken shoes to the side, sliding on her new ones and laced them up tightly. They fit like a glove. She glanced from her boots to the door several times, expecting him to burst through any second now. _He would say goodbye, wouldn't he?_ She asked herself, frowning. Isabelle sighed deeply and started to throw more things into her bag she thought she'd need. The chances were extremely slim that he would ever talk to her again after their conversation the other day.

* * *

Shock, hurt, and denial were all plastered over her father's face after she told him she was leaving. "You're … What?" The disbelief colored his tone as his eyes bore into hers.

"I'm leaving." She said again, this time with firmness. She had made up her mind, and nothing could make her change it again.

"But … Why? You can't go, Isabelle, I just got you back." He stood up, waving his arms around at her. His words broke her heart. She knew he hadn't seen her in nine years, and how she was leaving again but she had to; for her babies.

"Because, dad, I have to go somewhere. I have to find someone." She said calmly, looking up at him. Isabelle had to make him understand that she wasn't trying to break him.

"Who in the world would you need to be so desperate to find at a time like this?" his voice began to rise as he slowly became distraught. "I won't allow you to go. I forbid it."

She sighed, knowing he would say something like that. "Dad, I'm a grown woman and I can do what I please." She took his hands in hers, forcing him to stop moving. She searched his face, watching the emotions change and mix together in his eyes. "And as for who … My children, dad. I need to find my kids." She whispered. Isabelle felt him freeze and watched the light leave his eyes at her words.

"Kids?" he mumbled, completely startled and out of his element. She nodded slowly, not looking away from him for a second. He shook his head slowly at first, and then his movements became more frantic. "No, no, you can't have kids you're just a … Who …" he sputtered on, knowing full well who had made this happen. Isabelle put her hand over his mouth.

"Let me explain, okay? Let me tell you about them." She said softly, sitting him back on the bench as she started to tell him her story; from beginning to end. She told him about the men, about the other women and their kids. She told him about Michael and August, and how much they meant to her; how they were her world.

It took a little over an hour to tell him everything, but now he finally knew. Isabelle felt relieved that she had finally gotten to tell him. It felt as though a weight was lifted from her shoulders and she felt as though she were free.

She looked over at her father who was still sitting silently next to her. He said nothing and his eyes were slightly glazed over. She patted his shoulder comfortingly. "It's okay if it's a shock. It should be." She said softly. "You're a grandpa. You've always wanted to be one, haven't you?"

Instantly his body jerked away from her words, shrugging her hand off in disgust. "Not like this." He hissed, standing up aggressively."Do what you want, but remember this Isabelle: They are not family, not to me, and they never will be. So you must choose; me or them." He spat angrily and turned to march back towards the house. Isabelle sat on the bench in shock, not knowing what to do. _How could he act so cold? It wasn't their fault._

Her father was even more livid when he found out she had chosen to go after her children instead of staying with him. But Isabelle ignored his harshness, because she knew where her heart truly laid. It was with her boys, where it would always be, regardless of what anyone thought. She loved them for who they were, not where they came from or who made them; and that is all that mattered to her at this point.

* * *

After shoving a few more cans of mystery food and two bottles of lukewarm water into her bag, she slung it over one of her shoulders and headed down the stairs. Her new boots were as silent as night, never making a sound as she walked down the rickety staircase. Turning the corner at the bottom, she saw that everyone was gathered in the living room. She walked over to them slowly, nodding her head in a solemn goodbye to the entire group. "I know it hasn't been very long since I arrived, and now I'm turning around to leave again, but it was nice to meet you all. It really was." She said, choking out the last few words, fidgeting with her shoulder strap. Isabelle never was one who was good with words. She glanced around the room quickly, trying to locate her father but he wasn't there. Just as she'd thought; he wasn't going to show. He didn't want to say goodbye to her.

The young girl who had given her Karen's boots stepped forward hesitantly. "We want to thank you before you go, Isabelle; all of us. You've shown us that miracles do come true and that there is hope for us all." The girl said confidently. A spark of light surged through her eyes as Isabelle looked at her confused.

"But I haven't done anything for you." Her mind searched through her memories of these people, trying to find what that girl was talking about; she came up empty handed. No heroic moments.

The girl spoke up again. "Yes, yes you have. After nine whole years you managed to make it home, in the middle of a full blown apocalypse I might add. You've managed to survive one nightmare after the other, and if you can survive everything you went through and still face the world out there, then we can survive this too." Her voice was merely a whisper anymore, but it held such ferocity and courage, it felt like a roar of a lion. Isabelle's heart leaped to her throat as she tried to choke back the tears. This girl hadn't even known her for more than a week and she had managed to give Isabelle so much bravery out of such simple words. She stepped forward to wrap her arms around the girl in a tight embrace.

"Thank you." Isabelle whispered in the girl's ear. "Thank you." She let her go and took a step back to look at the rest of the group. "Please, all of you, watch out for my dad." She glanced down at the ground for a second before looking at them again. "It would mean so much to me." The entire room of people began to nod their heads in unison. Wiping away a stray tear from her cheek, she nodded once back in a quick and silent thanks.

Grabbing hold of her hunting knife, she walked through the front door of her house for what would be her last time. Her boots made subtle thumps as her feet carried her down the drive way. Isabelle had barely made it halfway down the street when she heard someone calling her name loudly.

"Isabelle! Isabelle, wait!" The voice called to her again. She turned around to see him sprinting towards her. Her father's arms pumped and his feet pounded the pavement as he raced to meet her in the middle of the street. Isabelle let out a small cry of joy when she saw the sight in front of her and bolted towards him as well. Once they had finally closed the gap between the two of them, she wrapped her arms around his midsection tightly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She could hear the pain that soaked his voice and she hugged him even closer. Her salty tears stained his rugged t-shirt.

After a few moments he pulled away, his hands still on her shoulders. "I couldn't just let you leave without saying goodbye, now could I?" He smirked sadly at her. She shook her head quickly.

"I knew you wouldn't." she whispered, rubbing at the constant stream of tears.

His face suddenly melted into seriousness as he reached around behind him and pulled out a silver hand gun. "Listen. I need you to do me a favor, short stuff." He took one of her hands and set the heavy gun in her palm, closing her fingers around the weapon. "I need you to be safe." His voice broke at the end of his sentence. "Can you do that for me, Isabelle?" His eyes bore into hers with such intensity she thought she would burst into flames. She gripped the gun tighter in her hands.

"I can. I will." She said confidently. He patted her shoulder a little roughly a couple times and smiled down at her.

"That's my girl." He murmured to himself, leaning in to lightly kiss the top of her head. He then shoved her forward gently, urging her to go now before it was too late. "Go get 'em, kiddo."

Isabelle looked back once more at her father standing alone in the street and then to the small group of people standing outside the house. Her father had grown to love them, and she was glad he had found them. She knew he'd be okay. Turning back around, Isabelle kept walking down the street, following her plan to travel down the highway on foot.

"Hey!" Her father called out suddenly. Isabelle whipped her head around questioningly. "Don't you forget to mention your old man to those boys of yours." There was a hint of pride in his voice that made her heart race. She grinned at him.

"I won't!" She called back to him and waved for the final time.

She would never forget.


End file.
